Eight Seconds Left in Overtime
by KeyLimePie14
Summary: One-shot. Freddie and Sam have a fight, but this one escalates further than normal bickering. So what happens when Freddie is injured in the football game that night? Will Sam be able to admit her feelings? FreddiexSam.


**This one-shot is inspired by someone I knew… He was only a junior at my high school, and died Friday night in a car accident after the football game. D: He will be missed terribly. Such a shame. …Now onto the story. Oh, and by the way, they are sixteen/seventeen in this fic. (Freddie and Carly of course being sixteen and Sam seventeen...)**

**Enjoy.**

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Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

_**- Robert Lee Frost **_

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"**Eight Seconds Left in Overtime"**

**FanFic by: KeyLimePie14**

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"God, Sam! Can't you ever just be a decent human being?!" Freddie Benson shot up off of the couch and stood over the blonde girl, staring down at her menacingly. His dark-wash blue jeans were now stained with a large pink blotch running down the left side of his pant leg. Sam stared back just as menacingly. Though it was obvious she was only trying to hold back a laugh.

"Can't you ever give me some space when I tell you to move over?" She asked, leaning back into the couch and slurping the rest of her strawberry smoothie trying her best to ignore the livid boy straddling her.

"Really Sam?!" He huffed. "I don't think Carly would appreciate it if I sat in her lap." He glanced over at the brunette girl sitting on the opposite end of the couch. She glanced up from trying desperately to ignore their bickering and smirked.

"Thanks for thinking of me, Freddie." She rolled her eyes and slurped on her smoothie some more.

"Welcome Carls." He quickly smiled at her remark before turning back to the irritating blonde. Sam looked up at him incredulously.

"Fredqueer, get out of the way. _Girly Cow _is on." She leaned up to shove him sideways, but since he was still straddling her legs that were spread out on top of the coffee table he drug her legs down with him. She cursed him under her breath and pulled her legs out from underneath his defeated looking form that lay on the floor face down. Out of bitterness she shuffled herself and threw her legs down over top of the boy making him a makeshift foot rest since the coffee table had been shoved away from her reach.

"Sam." Carly chastised, not taking her eyes from the screen. Sam ignored her and gulped the rest of her smoothie down.

"I didn't do anything Carly. He put himself in the position to be thrown to the floor." Sam told her, resting back into her original position on the couch, spreading out a little more since Freddie's body wasn't in the way. Carly rolled her eyes and scoffed at her best friend's excuses.

"Yeah," Came a muffled mumble, "I _asked _to be thrown to the floor and eat the carpet." Freddie tried to pull himself up so he could at least breathe, but Sam had other ideas. She dug her heels into his back shoving him back down. Freddie groaned.

"Shut up down there Fredward." Sam shouted to him, smiling smugly to herself. This time, Carly turned her head to see the positions her two best friends were in.

"Sam," Carly sighed. "Please let Freddie up." Sam shook her head and rested her head against the arm of the couch.

"Nope." She replied, popping her lips exaggeratedly. Carly got up and shoved her feet away long enough for Freddie to pull himself up into a sitting position on the floor. He turned to face Sam, looking even angrier than before.

"What the _hell _did I do to you?" He asked, eyes narrowing. Carly's eyes opened wide at his use of profanity and Sam just laughed.

"Someone alert Crazy! Her son just said a naughty." She taunted, reaching up to flick him in the nose. He slapped her hand away and held it tightly in his own. "Ow, freak, let go of my hand." Sam growled, trying to rip her hand away.

"No," He whispered, his teeth barred, "not until you back down. I didn't do _anything _to you." Sam was finding his anger way too funny.

"Or what are you going to do to me?" She challenged, still smirking. She knew she had been ripping on him a lot normal than usual lately but after the past three years of the abuse everyday of his life he had seemed to grow used to her picking and had mellowed out quite a bit. She wasn't expecting him to get so upset over any of it.

Freddie stuttered for a moment, she had called his bluff. "I, well …I'll tell the world your secret." He hissed, sneering at her. He knew how much she hated the idea of them kissing and she would _kill _him if he ever told. To him, it didn't really matter if people knew they had kissed or not. After all, it was just to get it over with. Her eyes expanded widely for a second before narrowing to thin slits.

"You wouldn't." She growled, snarling at him. He took in her annoyed expression and smiled, nodding his head slowly.

"Oh yes I will, Puckett, and you damn well know I will." He told her solemnly not breaking his eyes from hers. She jumped up from the couch and poked her finger into his chest (somewhere during the bickering he had gotten up from the floor) and stood on her tiptoes so she could be level with him.

"Do it and you _die_, Benson." She threatened, but to no avail. Freddie wasn't fazed by any of this; instead he crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

"I'd like to see you try." He stated, confident in himself. Sam grumbled, clenching and unclenching her fist at her side.

"You are pushing it Benson." She growled, shifting on her feet in an attempt to control herself from lashing out at his face.

"Really?" He stepped closer to her, as if taunting her. Sam growled and narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. And I suggest that if you had any sense whatsoever you would stop."

"Nope. Sorry," He shrugged, "No can do. I can however, shout _your _secret to the world."

"Fredward, I swear to God I am warning you…" She roared at him, stepping closer still and cracking her knuckles.

"You won't hurt me Sam." Carly shot up from the couch, seeing the need to pry her friends apart before they started ripping on each other—physically, not just verbally.

"Hey now, there's no need to get physical!" Carly shouted, coming to stand in between them, grabbing onto Sam's arm out of habit. Sam tried to wriggle out of her friend's grip, but met Carly's dark stare and weakly gave up.

"I wasn't gonna hurt him, Carls. I was just gonna show him what happens to stupid people." Sam pleaded, hoping Carly would believe her and release the death grip she had on her upper arm. Freddie scoffed.

"Sam, I think we have a prime example; you. We don't need a demonstration. All we gotta pull out is your criminal record and get your mom to show up." Freddie said before he could stop the stream of words leaving his mouth. Since he had already been in a stare off with the wily blonde he was quick to notice the flicker of emotion that passed through her eyes. Instantly he wished he could pull the words back, but they had already been put out there to hang like an impending blanket of doom above them.

Sam let out a cry that could hardly be recognized as human before she bent quickly out of Carly's grasp and bolted toward the brown-headed boy that stood stock still, consumed with sudden fear. She reached him in a fury of flying fists and insults, crashing him to the ground beneath her, her blows to his face and chest never slowing.

"SAM!" Carly shouted, once she recovered from the ache in her wrist from where her friend had spun away from her. In a mere second Carly was standing over top of Sam's hunkered down body and pulling her with all of her might. Sam didn't budge and instead kept punching Freddie's face with so much vigor and force that it was a wonder he wasn't spouting blood yet.

Freddie let out a weak cry, his hands flying up to his face in an effort to shield his already bruised face. "Stop!" He requested, still trying to make heads and tails of the mess of blonde fury above him.

"Fredward! It's time to come home now! You have that big foot—." The apartment door squealed open as his mother's voice filled the tension of the situation. Then, even before Carly could whip herself around to hold off Mrs. Benson's view, a loud scream filled the room.

Sam paused her thumping for only a second to glance over her shoulder at the person standing in the doorway. Upon seeing the lady she scowled even more. She slapped Freddie's face once more and rolled off of him. Before stalking away and up the stairs to Carly's bedroom she shouted over her shoulder, "Benson, you had better follow mommy's orders! We wouldn't want you to cause yourself any more pain!"

Carly, still confused at how fast the previous events had just transpired, finally caught hold of what was said. "Sam!" She called, clearing the small expanse of the living room and jumping up the stairs to at a time, attempting to catch up with her irate best friend. Her decision was one made at such a split-second, on-the-dime kind of thing that she didn't even apologize to her guests.

But had she been there, she would have known an apology was not needed. "Freddie-bear! Oh, honey, are you okay?!" Mrs. Benson shouted to her son who was groaning in pain on the floor. She kneeled beside him and reached for his head. He turned away from her, trying to prevent her from seeing the tears that sprung to his eyes as the throbbing below his left eye intensified. "Look at me." She commanded with such a tone that Freddie could only sigh and comply with her wishes. After taking in the damage for a moment, she let out a strangled sob and latched onto his arm, pulling him to his feet.

"Mom." He whined, trying to pull himself out of her grip. "I can walk just fine." He pushed her hand away and slightly shook his head, relieving it of the heavy feeling he had.

"To the apartment, now." She proceeded to walk out the open door of 8C and into 8D without another word. Freddie sighed, grasping his eye in pain and sluggishly followed her; he knew there was nothing good that could come from her tone.

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"Sam?" Carly called down the hallway, her steps softly padding in even strokes on the hardwood. She stopped as she came to her closed bedroom door and softly knocked. No sound came from behind the door, but Carly knew that was where Sam had run to. She sighed and twisted the knob, not really sure if it would be locked or not. It opened with a small click and she shoved the door back, pushing it to it limits on the hinges causing it to bounce back slightly as she entered the room.

Sam was sitting in one of the fluorescent colored beanbags on the floor, staring blankly up at the giant television. Carly sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Sam?" She prodded gently, still unsure of herself. Everything had happened so quickly she was afraid she misinterpreted her friend's actions. Sam didn't look at her, and Carly was pretty sure she knew what Sam was thinking.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, sounding far too distracted to show that she was just watching the television. Carly knew for a fact Sam had seen the re-run of _Girly Cow _so many times that she knew the entire script by heart and could recite it perfectly. Carly walked over and gingerly sat in the beanbag accompanying her friend's. They sat in silence for a while, as Carly mustered up courage to bombard the questions that were weighing on her mind.

"What's wrong?" Sam gave her a confused look, so Carly sighed and tried to explain, "I mean, you guys were fine. Nothing out of the ordinary happened."

"Something did happen, Carls." Sam spoke so softly, Carly wasn't sure she had spoken. But Sam's expression led her to believe otherwise. She was averting her gaze, staring blankly over Carly's shoulder.

"What, Sam? From what I could tell you guys were just bickering as usual, and then—." Carly was cut off by Sam, who jumped up so quickly Carly fell backwards a bit. Sam huffed and started pacing back and forth in a small line directly in front of Carly. She stared at her feet, not trusting her eyes to linger anywhere else.

"It's like," She paused to lick her lips, "once he said all that stuff—I just snapped." She fell back into her beanbag and stared at the ceiling. "I never expected something that _Fredward_ would say to me would affect me so much, but it did." Sam said nothing more and they fell into silence again.

Carly took a deep breath, "What are you saying?" She asked, shaking her head slightly, still trying to understand. Both of her friends were being very confusing with their actions and words and she didn't like it. She felt as if she was missing something… Sam paused before opening her mouth to speak,

"I, I really don't know Carly." She whispered and hauled herself out of the beanbag chair, moving her way out of the bedroom.

* * *

Sam smiled down at the large amount of food she held on a tray in front of her and slowly walked up the metal bleacher stairs as she made her way to the top, to where Carly was sitting. They were at the Friday night football game, and had been for a while as a matter of fact. The scoreboard read fourth quarter, score was tied at fourteen to fourteen and neither team had scored a touchdown since the first quarter.

Sam reached Carly and sat down before doling the food out between them. Carly didn't even bat an eyelash at the massive amounts of chili-coated, cheese covered foods that lay haphazardly arranged on a tray. She just leaned over, taking great care not to get Sam's nacho cheese on her team pride hoodie and grabbed her steaming Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate.

"Anything good happen while I was gone?" Sam asked directing her attention to the football field that lay below them. She took a large bite out of her hot dog and chewed thoughtfully.

"Mm... No." Carly told her, "Unless you consider that big guy over there," She reached over to point to a boy that was every bit of six-foot-two and two hundred pounds out, "shoving little Cartman around like a piece of meat good." Carly slightly shrugged and blew on her hot chocolate again, trying to get it to cool down before taking a sip.

"Cartman?!" Sam asked in disbelief, nearly losing the big bite of the hot dog she had just taken, "The little AV geek that tried out with Freddie?" Carly just nodded, deeming her cocoa cool enough to sip.

"Yeah."

"Wow, that poor kid." Sam shook her head back and forth, taking in the scene of Cartman lying flat on his back in the center of the mascot painted in the middle of the grass of the football field. Poor Cartman was a boy of only five-foot-five and lucky to be one hundred and fifty pounds. He didn't stand a chance against the beefy boy from South.

After a few moments of silence from the field, Cartman got up with the aid of the coaches and hobbled over to the bench, much to everyone's delight. Sam and Carly were close enough to the field to hear the coaches shout orders to the players, trying to get the game back on track. Sam's eyes flickered over to the far end of the pack of sweaty, padded football players and noticed Freddie staring at the ground, his mouthpiece jiggling as he moved it with his tongue nervously. Sam smiled; he had always done that during games… But then realization dawned on Sam.

She turned to Carly, "Hey Carls? Why is Freddie on the sidelines?" Sam was worried now; Freddie had made first-string, playing both offense and defense. Sam had remembered pulling him down into a headlock and giving him a noogie after he ran in shouting the news that he'd made first string safety and quarterback! Carly just looked over at Sam with sad eyes.

"Uhm, Sam? He was late to pre-game practice because his mom was fixing his eye up…" She trailed off, trying to hide her disappointment in Sam. But Sam caught on.

"Oh." She glanced down at her feet before turning back to look at Freddie who was still standing there, alone, like his own little island. Sam took another halfhearted bite of her hot dog before grimacing. She literally hated herself at the moment. It was the biggest game of the season and she had gotten Freddie suspended for the game! She knew how much he had been looking forward to this game all week, and she caused him to blow it.

"Yo Benson!" Sam's head jerked up quickly as her eyes found Freddie. The coach was strolling towards him quickly, pointing a finger in his direction. "Get out there." He gave Freddie a small shove toward the line. Freddie looked back at the coach in confusion.

"But coach! What position?!"

"Take Cartman's place!" Sam's eyes grew wide as she realized what that meant; Freddie would be playing tailback. Freddie couldn't run tailback and Sam had seen enough of his practices to know this. He wasn't fast enough or quick to think on his feet. He was done for.

Carly didn't really understand the concept of football and upon seeing Freddie trot out to the field and set up in formation she began cheering. Sam glared at her and smacked her arm telling her to shush. "He can't do it, Carly. He can't." All of a sudden Sam was really worried about Freddie. It didn't matter that a few moments ago she was still absolutely livid at him…and partially herself, now she knew all the possible outcomes. The one residing at the top of that list: failure. She was afraid he would lose this game and be forced to take all the heat for it. She wasn't heartless enough to _not _notice the gut-wrenching feeling warning her it wasn't going to be good.

"What do you mean, Sam? He's _good._" Sam shook her head; Carly just didn't get it.

"He's not agile _enough_, Carly and he knows it!" At this point Sam heard the snap and whipped her head back to the field. The quarterback handed the ball off to Freddie who tucked it under his arm and bolted toward the end-zone. Sam's breath hitched as she watched Freddie swivel and twist around two of members of the defense with ease.

Then, just as she was sure he was going to make it (he was only seven yards away) out of nowhere the six-foot-two, two hundred pound defensive lineman appeared. Freddie saw him at the last moment and tried to stiff arm him, but it was too late. A small pile had already formed, with Freddie on the bottom.

Sam's eyes searched the rest of the playing field in disbelief, desperately looking for number fifty-six still running towards the end-zone. But fifty-six was nowhere to be found. "Shit." She mumbled under your breath, looking towards to clock to see it still running. It was in over-time now, with eight seconds left.

She barely heard Carly's frantic voice over the announcer, "Whoa folks! Looks like James Heraldo did it again! Pinning Ridgeway's tailback under him _again_. This time Freddie Benson was running the ball."

"Sam?! What happened?!" Carly asked as she jumped up and leaned over the old, rusted rail. Sam just shook her head.

"I don't know Carly. Just wait, as long as the clock keeps—." Sam stopped mid-sentence as the clock stopped and both coaches ran out to where Freddie had been tackled. Sam sighed. All hopes of possibly winning the game just left the planet.

"Sam! He's not getting up!" Carly shouted, spinning around on her heel and grasping Sam's shoulder. Sam looked toward the field and saw the scene for herself. She vaguely recognized the sound of sirens in the background of the crowd.

"No…" She whispered under her breath. The other players had cleared to their respective sides and all that remained were the coaches and assistant coaches crouched around a boy in a white and blue football uniform.

"It doesn't appear as if Benson is getting up, folks." The announcer called out dully. Sam growled at his obvious statement.

Before Sam could stop herself she bolted down the exit ramp and fled toward the tunnel leading to the field. She darted around Freddie's fellow football players, who were shouting things that she didn't care to listen to, and headed straight for Freddie. Her eyes never left Freddie.

She could hear Carly calling for her to come back, but she disobeyed. Freddie overpowered all of her thoughts at the moment. That guy had slammed into Freddie with full force; Freddie never had a chance.

"Freddie!" She shouted, reaching the coaches and shoving through them. One of them grabbed her around the waist and tried to pull her away from the boy.

"No honey, you can't be here! Just go stand on the sidelines." His voice was tense, which unnerved Sam even more. "He'll be fine; I promise." He spoke quietly a moment later after she didn't respond. Sam shook her head, trying to hide just how much seeing his face twisted in pain hurt her.

The other coaches were talking quietly and swiftly to him, trying to calm him until paramedics arrived. Freddie was arguing back, protesting that he wasn't injured; he just wanted to run another play.

Sam broke free of the coach and fell beside Freddie's helmet-clad head. His eyes rolled in fear at the people above him and the wild, crazed look in his eye gave Sam chills. His eyes finally rested on her, and they calmed to a noticeable degree. He tried turning his head, but the man that had tried to hold Sam back grabbed his helmet and commanded him fiercely that he mustn't move his neck. Freddie protested with a groan, but obeyed.

"Sam?" Freddie's voice came out panicked, but through the pain that was searing up his left side he still managed a small smile. Sam held back a sob; sure, she was scared to death, but she wasn't about to show him that. She went for a humorous attempt.

"Jeez, Freddie." She chuckled, "Everyone knows you don't stiff arm a two-hundred pound horse!" She snorted. Freddie rolled his eyes as a smirk appeared on his face.

"I know, I just freaked." He sighed and let his eyes close for a moment. "Ow." He whispered, reaching down to grab his side. Sam scooted a little closer and placed her hand on his chest.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly. Freddie's eyes popped open and searched her eyes. He could see the worry hidden there and attempted to ease her concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He forced a smile, "This is _nothing _compared to what you do to me every day." He chuckled, but groaned at the sharp stab of pain it shot up his side. Sam smiled, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Okay, Freddie. We're gonna put you on a stretcher now." The coach turned to Sam, "Hon, you can come with us." He helped her stand upright by grabbing her arm and leading her off the field behind Freddie. Carly was standing just outside of the tunnel and upon seeing Sam being led off the field by the coach, she ran over to her.

"Sam! Come on, Spencer's waiting by the med station." Carly grabbed Sam's hand and pulled her over to where they already had Freddie sitting on the edge of the ambulance, checking his side. Freddie glanced up and saw his two friends running towards him. His eyes lit up and he smiled.

"Freddie! Are you okay?!" Carly asked, barely skidding to a stop in time to avoid colliding with a paramedic who just shot her a dirty look. "Whoops, sorry." She blushed. Sam laughed and pushed past her to sit beside Freddie. She swung her legs off the back of the tailgate and smirked.

"That does look like it's gonna be one wicked story to tell." Sam grinned, returning to her normal self once seeing Freddie was semi-okay, and plus, the moment they had just shared was shattered. Sam was attempting to repress the weird feelings she was getting when Freddie smiled at her as Spencer bounded up.

"Freddie!" He went to stand by Carly, who had calmed down some, and smiled sympathetically at Freddie. "You alright, kiddo?" Freddie just nodded, wincing only slightly when the man lifted his shirt and loosened his pads, pulling them off of him. He continued his check-up while Carly filled Spencer in on all of the details of the game, leading up to the injury. Sam chuckled at a few of Spencer's expressions, but kept her eyes locked on Freddie.

Freddie laughed a short laugh before glancing over at her. His smile faded to a look of confusion, but Sam just stared back. They didn't say any words, but the look in their eyes gave each other all the information a conversation could have. They didn't know what it was exactly, but something drastic had changed that day and it was too soon to tell if the outcome would be good or not. Sam smiled weakly at him and broke the gaze, turning her attention to Spencer who was telling a very animated story of his trip there.

Freddie stared at Sam a few more moments in confusion before shaking his head and laughing at Spencer's joke feigning interest, for his attention was elsewhere...

* * *

"Ow." Freddie mumbled as Carly and Sam tried to shuffle him into the elevator at Bushwell Plaza. It was about midnight, and they were just getting home from the football game. Despite his injuries, which included a sprained ankle and bruised side, Freddie insisted on staying to watch the end of the game from the sidelines with Sam debutant on the bench beside him. Carly and Spencer had run off to track down Freddie's mom, who had unfortunately been on the late shift at work and wasn't able to make the game.

"Oh Freddie, honey, are you okay?" Mrs. Benson was close behind their heels, fretting over her only son. Needless to say, the minute she got the call from Carly she went into classic Mrs. Benson-worry-over-the-top mode and had yet to calm down. Freddie grunted and hobbled into the elevator in one bounce.

He rolled his eyes, "Yes mother. For the last time, I'm alright!" He grimaced at his own outburst as it caused his side to hurt. She was quick to notice the small flicker of his mouth.

"No, you're not, Freddie! Oh baby, come here." She hugged him tight around the waist. Freddie's eyes crossed from the sudden contact. He tried to shove her off, but she just wouldn't budge. It seemed she didn't realize she was the one causing him the pain at the moment.

"Now I'm not." He squeaked out, his eyes crossing again. Sam pulled his arm back around her and chuckled. His mother finally let go and shot him a sad look.

"You'll be okay. We'll go up to the apartment and you can rest. You need to keep that foot elevated, so that means no getting up and walking around… No going over to Carly's. No school," She paused, "Well, you _have _to attend school, I suppose… Hm, I wonder if I could convince Principal Franklin to allow you to do your work from home… And then of course,—!" Freddie grunted and cut his mother off.

"Mom." He said sternly. "I can do stuff. I promise. They said that I just had to go pick up a pair of crutches in the morning and I could be up and walking on my own. Chill, I will be fine." Everyone looked at him with startled expressions. His tone was so demanding and firm that it was hard to believe that it was Freddie standing before them.

"Whoaaa." Sam spoke, drawing out the end. "Fredd-o grew some!" She was beaming from ear to ear as Freddie's face flushed a deep crimson.

"What does that mean? He grew what…?" Freddie's mom was confused, which just caused the two female teenagers to burst out in laughter while the boy blushed so red that it appeared all the blood in his body had flooded to his face.

"Yeah, yeah. Make fun." He stuck his tongue out at Sam.

"Sorry buddy, but that look on your mom's face is just too funny."

"Yeah!" Carly squeaked from the other side, still trying to control her laughter. Carly's giggles bubbled over and spilled out filling the room.

"Grew _what?!_" Mrs. Benson repeated, looking flustered at the teens. It wasn't her fault she couldn't catch on to teen lingo. The elevator dinged, signaling they were at the eighth floor. The doors opened and the children's laughter died down as they stepped out slowly.

"You okay, Freddie?" Carly asked, worry tingeing her voice. Freddie nodded, keeping his gaze focused to the ground; he just wanted to make it to the apartment before his legs gave out from exhaustion.

"Okay, here we are!" Mrs. Benson went ahead of them and unlocked the apartment. Freddie hesitated outside the door, glancing from Sam to his mother. The girls stopped and gave him confused looks.

"What's wrong Freddie?" Carly whispered. Freddie looked over at her and opened his mouth when he was cut off by a scream.

"Carl-ayyyy! The couch just caught on fire!" Spencer's voice sounded from behind the door across the hall. Carly rolled her eyes.

"I better go get him… Sam, Mrs. Benson? Can you manage to get him inside?"

"Yeah, hurry Carly!" Sam shouted over Spencer's screaming. Carly gently pulled herself away from Freddie as his mom took her place. Freddie still didn't move.

"Freddie? Come on, you've been on your feet far too long already." Mrs. Benson tried tugging on her son's arm in an attempt to pull him into the open door of the apartment. Freddie shook his head and leaned over to his mom's ear.

"Uh, just give me a minute with Sam, please?" He pulled the puppy dog eyes. His mom stared at him for a moment before making sure he was steady against the wall. She entered the apartment and pushed the door halfway shut.

"Uhm, Freddie?" Sam finally spoke. She stepped in front of him once he leaned back against the wall. Freddie looked at her.

"Mh-m?" He had still been searching for the right way to start out—the right way to tell her he was sorry.

"Uh, don't you want to go inside?" She jerked her thumb toward the door, pacing nervously from foot to foot. Freddie smirked and shook his head, making his unnaturally wavy brown locks to float around his face.

"No, I have something I need to say to you."

"Really? Well, spit it out Benson. I don't have all day. I'm already missing out on crucial weekend sleep hours." Freddie chuckled at how serious her tone was. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

"Okay--," He paused for a long time, averting his eyes to stare at the floor.

"Come on." She impatiently stamped her foot.

"I'msorryIsaidallofthatstufftoyouand…" He paused, taking a deep breath and looking her in the eyes, "IthinkI'mfallinginlovewithyou." He spoke it all in one long breath, running a hand through his hair. Sam leaned toward him, her blonde curls falling around her face.

"Huh?" Her breath hit his face and Freddie blushed again. He looked up at her shyly.

"Please don't make me repeat that." He pleaded, making her laugh out loud. She stepped towards him, closing the small distance between them.

"I won't. I heard you loud and clear, Benson." She whispered, smirking. Freddie smiled back and took advantage of the slight wave of courage he had to lean over and catch her lips in a kiss. It was sweet, short and chaste, but they both pulled away grinning from ear to ear, faces fully flushed.

"I really, really like you Freddie." Sam admitted, running her hand up and down his chest, not meeting his eye. Freddie chuckled and buried his face in her hair, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"I really, really _love _you Sam." He replied softly, wrapping his arms around her. They stood in each other's embrace for a while, just enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed together. A loud bang was heard followed by a crazed scream.

"Fredward Benson! You get your butt in here and get away from that Samantha Puckett!" The two teenagers looked at each other in fear at Mrs. Benson's tone before Sam began cracking up.

"Uh oh, I think she figured out what 'grow some' means…" Sam snorted; pushing herself gently away from Freddie and helping him hobble to the door entrance. Freddie sighed.

"Here we go." He whispered, pecking her quickly on the lips. He whispered good-bye and staggered into his apartment.

Sam stood at the doorway for a moment, her hand frozen to her smiling lips. She heard a loud crash and then Mrs. Benson yelling at Freddie again about how Sam was a bad influence on him and that she didn't like her language…

Sam laughed and turned on her heel, entering her best friend's apartment.

* * *

**So? How was it? Other than the fact that it was a ridiculously long one-shot that took me three days to write… Leave reviews if you took time to read that, please! :D **


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